“The ranges and the space to spread out, we just can’t get that at Camp Pendleton,” said Lt. Col. William Vivian, commanding officer of the 2nd Battalion, 4th Marine Regiment and the 1,300 “Magnificent Bastards” heading to Musa Qalah and Now Zad. “We are able to get much, much closer to combat conditions here.”

His battalion was preparing for its fourth back-to-back shipboard tour as a Marine Expeditionary Unit when their orders changed in January. The reaction was elation among many Marines, including Miller, the new squad leader. He had planned a transfer but stayed with the battalion to deploy to Afghanistan.

“Everybody was pretty psyched,” he said. All the Marines, that is. Many of their wives feel otherwise.

Miller joined the Marine Corps at age 17 with a baby on the way, to give his family a better life, he said. The 2005 graduate of Santana High School in Santee has two children now, ages five and three. This will be the fourth tour his wife has endured on the home front, after Miller’s two Iraq deployments and a ship tour. “She says it never gets easier. It gets harder, especially now that the kids are growing, and they know what’s going on,” Miller said.

The Marines lived rough during their month at Twentynine Palms. By the end of it, they hadn’t showered in weeks. The desert heat, the dust, the endless field operations were getting to them. “We have definitely peaked,” Vivian said. His battalion had been training hard since January. It was time to go to war, he said. “We are ready.”

In the harsh desert light on patrol, Miller’s aquamarine eyes seem to glow in his deeply tanned face. He keeps his head on a swivel in all directions as they head toward the town, passing Marines who have been laying on their bellies all night with rifles aimed.

When they make it to the police station, another squad points out a possible bomb buried near the malik’s house. Wires protruding from the dirt are a telltale sign, so the Marines wait for explosive ordnance disposal technicians to arrive and investigate.

Hours later, the call goes out warning of an impending explosion in three minutes: “Controlled det, three mikes!” The squad closest to the bomb hides behind a wall, but another group mills in the open.

One of the “coyotes,” the Marine trainers shadowing them, leans close to a sergeant and points in the distance. “Look at those Marines over there. Those are your Marines, correct?” Gunnery Sgt. Lance White barks. “Where’s the communication for their safety?”

The sergeant takes his advice and hollers “get your guys behind the building!” A moment later, the Marine working the bomb says calmly, “boom.”

After the simulated explosion, Cpl. Bryan Allen, a fire team leader, says “glad we survived that gents, to fight another day.” Then he limps away complaining of shrapnel wounds.